Forgotten (45 page)

“
Okay, until
the highway, it is,” she said.

***

Reardon cruised along the major routes until
the lights of the Sunshine Coast were mere flickers in his rear
view mirror. Ahead, nothing but a serviceable bypass, and at that
time of night a very dark and empty one. Just as he wanted.

“
You
’re up to something,” Claudia
said.

“What makes you think that?”

She tilted her head to one side and sighed
heavily. “I wish you could be more honest with me.”

The words
struck him with some force. He had always been honest, extended it
to every single individual that he helped. In fact, he took bloody
pride in it. Fear, he fast learnt, was an ugly, crippling emotion.
Worsened further by the unexpected, the unknown.

By keeping
his clients informed with the best and the
worst, not only helped reduce some of that unknown, but
also prepared them mentally for whatever lay ahead.

He
hadn
’t prepared Claudia for tonight. He
ground his teeth, something he hadn’t done in a long time, felt his
eyebrows crumple. “I tried to tell you earlier.” He cringed at how
weak that sounded. “You know, just before Annie came in with news
of your father.”

“Tell me what?”

His chest
constricted a muscle or two, made him draw breath. His gut felt as
tightly wound as Claudia’s fingers appeared. “About tonight’s
plan.”

“Tonight, as in now?”

“Tonight, as in soon.”

She crossed
her legs and spoke without looking at him. “You could’ve told me
before the hospital.” Her voice was unreadable.

“
You
’re right. But you already had
enough to deal with. I guess it’s just my way of protecting
you.”

“
Something
you don
’t do with the others.”

“Seems that way.”

She went quiet.

“
I’m sorry,
Baby. It was wrong, completely reckless.” He swept his hand between
the pair of them. “All this is new for me. Be patient till I work
it out.”

She turned to the window, stared at the
blackened shadows blurring past. When she turned back, it was with
a warming smile. “I can do that.”

He returned
the smile, stretched his
dangerous
dimples just for
her.

“So tell me about tonight.”

Reardon
sighed, almost wished tonight now wouldn’t happen. “I think I know
who’s put the hit on you.”

Claudia’s
smile collapsed. “Who?”

“Someone whom I suspect will turn up at any
moment.” Reardon glanced at his rear vision mirror. Nothing
yet.

Claudia threw a swift peek through the back
window. “You mean someone will be following us?”

“Maybe.”

“
And you’re
okay with this?”

“Yes. Until they make a move.”

“A move? Like to kill me?”

He winced.

“
Shit, Saul.
Have you at least got someone following
the
someone following
us?”

“Sort of.”

“Sort of? Fuck.”

Had Claudia
ever used the word fuck
before? Reardon
couldn’t recall. “Ethan and I have this well-planned. And there’s
still the off-chance that this person may not even
show.”

“But you hope he will.”

“
Naturally.
I want the bastard caught. One less reason to be looking over our
shoulders.” Again, he checked the mirror.

“Who is he?”

He imagined
several names crossing her head about now. “I’m thinking
it’s
…
.”

Light
bounced off the mirror, struck Reardon’s eyes. A set of bright
headlights flashed from the bend behind them and began approaching
fast. Could mean something, could mean nothing. Reardon favored
the
something.

“Is that him?”

“
Not sure,
yet.” The vehicle closed in until Reardon could barely make out the
headlights. That’s when he felt the first nudge against the bumper.
“Obviously this is their game.”

“
To shove us
off the road?” Claudia snapped both hands on the seat’s edge.
“Don’t think I like this game.”

“
I’m
thinking more he wants us to pull over.”

“And are we?”

“
Not until
I’m ready.” Reardon slammed the accelerator. The tires gripped the
solid, coarse bitumen and they blasted forward. Excitement rippled
his skin, adrenalized his blood. How he loved the chase. One glance
at the wide-eyed, transfixed Claudia, and the excitement quickly
waned.

Another jolt to the bumper, this time with
more impact.

Reardon’s
body lurched forward.

Claudia called his name.

Something
flew off the dashboard and fell to the floor.

“Baby, listen to me.” Reardon said.

Claudia
appeared half-dazed. No, worse…
she appeared bloody unprepared
.
Hell, if he didn’t keep messing up with her. “Claudia,” he snapped.
“I’m depending on you.” So much for super calm and control. His
emotions were more like bloody yoyos.

Another
bump. A very awkward spin of the wheels. Reardon quickly readjusted
them, waited until he curved the next bend. “You with
me?”

Claudia
glared at him with a gloriously high, resolute chin. “Of
course.”

Disbelief
hit Reardon first, then a long breath of admiration and relief. The
next bump sent the car swinging to the other side of the road.
Brakes screeched. Claudia jolted, clasping the side of the seat.
Reardon pulled hard on the wheel, straightened it. Sharp pain
stabbed his wounded arm. He swore.

“
You
okay?”

Shouldn’t he
be asking that? “Fine.” Sweat irritated his forehead. He checked
the mirror. He made out two distinct shapes piloting the car.
Reardon guessed the passenger was their doer, the other, one of his
driving lackeys. The vehicle dropped back. “The next thing they’ll
probably do is come close to our side. Try to shunt us that way.
I’m going to let them to do that a couple of times. Even have a few
attempts at giving the same back.”

She asked him why.

He
crisscrossed his gaze from the mirror to the road ahead. “Because
they’d expect it of me.” Did that sound wanky, a bit full of
himself? “Then when I think the time is right, I’ll run the car off
the road. Remember, I’ll be doing it on purpose.”

“Please tell me you know how to do it
without killing us.”

“I know how to do it without killing
us.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Yes.”

“And then what… what do I do then?”

There was a
grittiness to her look now. And something else. What was it?
Control? Was she trying to control her fear? Shit, the bloody woman
never ceased to amaze him. “Play unconscious. I’ll do the rest. Got
me?”

That stubborn little chin nodded along with
her head.

“
The airbags
may go off. The crash won’t be that major, but just in case, be
prepared that they may knock the wind out of you. Use it to make
your act appear more real.”

Another nod.

“
And promise
me, unless the car catches fire, which it won’t, under no
circumstances get out of the car until it’s over.” That part was
important. Reardon needed to concentrate on something
other
than
her.

The foreign
vehicle sped up until it sidled them. Reardon still couldn’t make
out the faces; the windows were black like the car. It suddenly
swerved, side swept the front of Reardon’s car and pulled
away.

Reardon took
his foot off the accelerator, gripped the steering wheel and turned
into the direction of the skid. When he was back in control, he
mimicked their maneuver. The other vehicle zigzagged for several
yards, then fell back to the rear. The racing jock knew how to
wheel a car.

“Watch out!” Claudia yelled.

A pair of
iridescent eyes shot up from the road’s center and stared at them.
A possum perhaps? Reardon wove sharply to avoid it. The subsequent
thumps meant his racing companion didn’t. Claudia mumbled beneath
her breath.

They sped
on. Another sideswipe, another counter attack, the cry of angry
brakes, the stench of scorching rubber.

Until the
big hit came.
Bigger than Reardon
expected.

It
didn
’t take much effort on Reardon’s part
to execute the false crash. They would’ve crashed anyway. In
contrast to all his defensive driving techniques, Reardon slammed
the brakes, executed a half pirouette and screeched to the
alternate side of the road where he allowed the car to plunge and
stop in a sharp down-turned angle.

No
deployment of airbags. He was happy with that. He immediately
checked Claudia. “You okay?”

A
meager
yes
followed. She then rolled her full weight against the door
and closed her eyes. Reardon tapped his watch and did the
same.

A car door
opened.

Light footsteps approached.

Reardon paced his breathing.

Light
footsteps became heavy footsteps until they stopped just outside
his door. He imagined someone looking through the window, could
sense their sharp, inquisitive eyes burn a hole in him. But Reardon
remained flawlessly rigid.

A click.

The car door.

A pause.

And the door began to open.

Just a little.

And then it stopped.

A little more.

And Reardon
bolted, grabbed the door handle and smacked the door directly into
the Racing Jock’s middle. Racing Jock buckled and
groaned.

In one swift
move, Reardon sprang from his seat. Knitting his hands into a
rock-solid fist, he smashed his opponent squarely beneath the chin.
Racing Jock’s head cracked back. He stumbled several steps. But the
man was huge. He quickly uncurled, flexed his burly biceps and came
thundering towards Reardon. He swung his clenched fist. It caught
nothing but vacant air.

Reardon had
already sidestepped him, smashing his foot directly into the back
of Racing Jock’s knees. Racing Jock crumbled with an ear-splitting
roar. Reardon ripped to his rear, pressed two digits into his wide,
fleshy neck and Racing Jock went down.

Claudia called out. The door of the black
car was slowly opening.

“
Stay put,”
Reardon whispered.
Using his car as a
shield, he crouched low. An obscure figure stretched from the
opened door, then darted into the nearby bushland.

Reardon took chase.

The forest
was dark. The forest possessed a map load of possible directions.
One could easily lose a runner in a forest like that. Reardon
stopped a few feet inside its perimeter.

You have good natural instincts,
Roscoe, his mentor, once told him,
but at times, you need to stop, take heed of your
surroundings. It is those same surroundings that will speak to you…
give you what you need.

Reardon
pressed his eager palms against a nearby gum tree, used it as his
base. He closed his eyes, drew strength in the sharp, distinctive
scents of night-time bushland, pure with plant-driven oxygen,
devoid of innocuous daytime fumes. To his left crickets chirped, as
did the few desperate rasps of hungry frogs crying for rain. Dried
leaves shuffled, crunched; scavenging scrub turkeys
perhaps.

To Reardon’s
right?

Nothing.

He smiled.

Employing
the moonlight as his ally, and the silence of his animal friends,
he carefully trod forward, avoiding the sharp crunch of twigs, the
crackles of parched foliage. He stopped, listened some more. Heard
the sounds of human invasion. And followed it.

Partially
crouched behind a bush was a well-rounded figure. Reardon carefully
withdrew his switchblade from his ankle and backtracked. A
soundless route wasn’t easy in such a rain-starved
environment.

A little
skill, a little luck and soon his blade met his surprised
assailant
’s throat. “I expected more
challenge from someone like you”

The man’s
laugh came far too easily. “Be careful what you wish
for.”

“Is that a threat? Rather ineffectual if it
was.”

The man
shifted his weight.
“We could debate it,
but another time, perhaps.”

Reardon
pressed the blade until it indented the man’s skin. “On the
contrary, tonight’s perfect for me.”

He boosted the man to his feet and spun him
around, allowed him to slither like the snake he was back to the
ground. The moon reflected the evil shine in his eyes, the rabid
smirk on his lips, the unprecedented self-confidence in his pumped
out chest.

Reardon’s
initial instinct was correct.

This
man
was
dangerous.

“
Senator
Carlos Macey,” he said. “This
is
a surprise and a strange place
to be gathering constituents.”

December 29, 2010

11:54
am